


I’m gonna Bother You (until the day is over)

by tukimecca



Series: Baby, don't Like it [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Canon Related, Choking, Collars, Dom/sub, Dry Sex, Jaehyun is gentle Dom, M/M, Master/Pet, Mention of - Freeform, Or not, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Taeyong is pampered princess, it's very long i'm sorry, so many feelings, this isn't Johnny's fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 09:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10568628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tukimecca/pseuds/tukimecca
Summary: Taeyong purposely took photos with Johnny like that. Because Taeyong always wants Jaehyun to be a little rougher.





	

__ I’m gonna slowly show you love, right  
You should be afraid of me, that’s what I want  
I want you to hit and kick me, ruin me 

Baby Don’t Like it – NCT127

:::

If you ask him whether he did it on purpose or not, Taeyong would answer;  _ I did _ .

But if it was Jaehyun – if  _ you _ were Jaehyun, and you asked Taeyong the same thing, his answer would be;  _ I didn’t _ .

Either way, right now it doesn’t matter. It does not matter because now Taeyong already got what he wanted ever since he realized the way Jaehyun has been looking at him, ever since he saw Jaehyun’s caramel brown eyes landed on the black cloth clasped around his neck, ever since Jaehyun told him things he wanted to do with Taeyong in the privacy of their bathroom once the other members have fallen into blissful world of sleep under the spell of Hypnos.

Either way, it does not matter, because Taeyong already knew what he got in store for him, a promise that Jaehyun made while twirling those dexterous fingers around the tail of Taeyong’s choker, lips spilling words obscene as they’re magnificent.

Taeyong had told Jaehyun he likes it. He cannot wait until it happens, and Jaehyun smiled down on him, like sunshine, like the golds of his hair, warm with love and burning with desire that blew his pupils rich dark of chocolate. Jaehyun had kissed him, quick and secretive in fear of passerby, but the effect lingered, pleasant tingle on Taeyong’s lips.

Jaehyun’s idea was –  _ is _ – brilliant, but if Taeyong has to be honest; it’s not enough for him. He wants,  _ needs _ , something more; something that could curb the seemingly insatiable hunger deep within him, something that could satisfy the wanton craving that thrums his skin.

And thrumming under Jaehyun’s fair, snow-like skin is his anger, radiating through him in a form of undeniable, law-abiding words. “I want you to stand there, don’t move, and remove your clothes. Shirt first.”

Jaehyun is a good Dominant, a very splendid, superb Dominant who makes Taeyong feel undeserving of sometimes. He is kind, heart made of gold and all things virtuous. He takes care of Taeyong really well, treating him with tender, worshipping fingers and revering kisses. He can be rough when he wants to, but most of the time, he is gentle. He takes pleasure from being in charge, being in control and having Taeyong twirled around his fingers, losing himself in between commands Jaehyun has woven for him. His thrill comes from making Taeyong  _ his _ ; shaping him and bending him freely like Taeyong is the canvas and he’s the artist, making Taeyong feel good and sending him to and over cloud nine of subspace where he knows nothing but pure, gilded bliss.

Jaehyun loves cuffs and restrains, likes rough sex that leaves Taeyong sore for days, but he was rarely the one who initiated it. It’s Taeyong, has always been Taeyong and his brazen, immoral fantasy; of being spanked by Jaehyun’s large, scintillating palm; of being cuffed and fucked quickly over the kitchen table after the members told them they’re coming home in fifteen minutes; of being blindfolded and fucked raw by Jaehyun’s dry cock.

Taeyong likes –  _ loves _ – them, the burning pain and intimate friction of sweat-slicked skin.  The sensation of vulnerability and helplessness that comes whenever he let Jaehyun unleash the dominant beast inside of him, it is his delight. The sweet, intoxicating ache that reminds him that he is alive, breathing, and is Jaehyun’s – only Jaehyun because Jaehyun wouldn’t let any harm befall Taeyong, unless it’s a strain that Taeyong himself willingly accept.

Jaehyun’s roughness is a luxury, something that Taeyong would preserve in the museum of his heart forever, put it inside a cage made of diamond, decorate it with roses red and in full-bloom, display it as the centerpiece of his Atelier. When Jaehyun’s fingers forget how to be kind and remember only to hurt, to move exactly as how Jaehyun’s innermost desire wants them to, if Taeyong cried, it’s from happiness, blurring together with the sweet, torturous pain of Jaehyun’s loving violence.

Jaehyun is his partner, his lover, his Dominant, and to him Taeyong entrusts himself fully. If Jaehyun wants to break him, to tear him flesh by flesh, and to grind his bones to ivory dust, then Taeyong will welcome him with open hands. If Jaehyun wants him to jump from the top of a building, then Taeyong will happily throw himself from the highest building in Seoul.

Except he knows Jaehyun would never make such ludicrous, unfeeling commands. Jaehyun rarely gives him one, all too satisfied with being able to be the only one who marks Taeyong and make Taeyong feel good.

But if there was any command, if there was any rule that Jaehyun imposed on him, they’re always made with consideration of Taeyong’s feelings and well-being.

Don’t forget to eat. Stay hydrated. Wear warm clothings (he cheats this one too many times, but to his defense, he handles cold weather exceptionally well). Drink your vitamins.

Don’t act too intimately with other people.

He had crossed the line of that last rule when he pressed his head on Johnny’s chest a couple of hours ago when they were taking group photo. He didn’t even have to look at Jaehyun’s expression to know the thunderous anger that had flickered his carnelian eyes ablaze.

So, if you ask Taeyong whether he did that on purpose, maybe there was more  _ yes _ than  _ no _ .

Okay, so, that’s actually a  _ yes _ , but again, now it does not matter because Jaehyun is sitting on the edge of bathtub, still in his black dress-pants and cream-colored sweater, having shed his blazer when they arrived in the dorm two hours earlier.

The other members are fast asleep, exhaustion from hours of routines and flight finally winning over them. Taeyong is tired as well; his eyes kept dropping, but the excitement of Jaehyun’s promise, and the sharp gaze the said Dominant has been giving him was a silent order to stay awake. Jaehyun had crafted a lie about calling his parents and coming to his room late for Johnny, while Taeyong pretended to fall asleep earlier to convince Taeil before slipping out from his room some time later as Jaehyun had ordered him to.

Taeyong just wants to be good for Jaehyun, he’s a good Sub; a pretty, obedient Submissive who had drawn eyes of many and ignited the amber haze of possessiveness and green-eyed monster called jealousy inside his Dominant’s gut.

Oh, Taeyong could feel it alright. The way everyone’s eyes were falling onto him, on his loose, white shirt and dangling collar on his neck. Some of them didn’t even bother to hide their greed, looking at Taeyong like lion in hunger. Taeyong knew he’s good looking, but the way he had been styled today just increased his allure by notches. He admits it himself; he looks like sin personified. Black tousled hair, makeup smoked-eyes and circle lenses that enlarged his already big, dark eyes; pouty coral lips; and the collar didn’t help at all at toning down his sensuality.

He secretly praised Jaehyun’s tenacity. He managed to stay calm throughout the awards without being too handsy with Taeyong at all, rather; he resolutely kept his hands to himself, and his distance, too. The only time Jaehyun and him were close was during their arrival when their standard protocol required the two of them to stand together.

Jaehyun had looked at him the way he usually did; all dimpled-smiles and adoring, twinkling eyes that spoke of endless bountiful love. He stood by Taeyong’s side during award reception as well, holding the bouquet and looking dashingly handsome with his parted blonde hair slightly mussed. Those blonde tresses that Taeyong will soon twist and turn between his fingers.

“But leave the collar alone,” Jaehyun adds.

Taeyong whimpers, he answers, already half-dazed at the sheer command in Jaehyun’s voice. “Yes, Sir.”

He can feel his arousal already, waking up his half-hard cock beneath the soft fabric of his expensive dress pants. Jaehyun is just sitting there, long, strong legs crossed, his left hand is folded on his chest, fist tucked under the elbow of his right hand that’s propping his chin. His eyes are dark already, blown with unhidden desire like Taeyong’s own. His lips are stretched into thin line, not smiling but not scowling either, expression drawn carefully blank. A full Dominant mode spiced with blazing possessiveness and hint of anger. Taeyong feels like diving under already, sliding to his knees and crawling on all four to lick Jaehyun’s feet, proving Jaehyun that Lee Taeyong is his and his alone; to claim, to own, to bend and to command at his will. To take care and to love. And  _ love _ , God, does Taeyong love him very much, from the tip of his toes to the very last strand of his hair.

Taeyong starts with his white shirt, unbuttoning the fastened six buttons downward with trembling fingers. He untucks the soft fabric from his pants, mewling when the bathroom’s mid-January cool air kisses his skin. His lips fall half-opened, he peers up from beneath his bangs to find Jaehyun still maintaining the same gaze on him; unspoken command of ‘ _ go on’ _ .

Go on Taeyong does, slipping his thumbs inside the band of his pants then with a soft  _ pop _ that echoes unnecessarily loud in the all too silent bathroom, he unbuttons his pants. The raven swallows thickly, about to shimmy out from his trouser when Jaehyun’s order comes again, this time carried by that rich timbre of his.

“Underwear, too, all off.”

Taeyong nods.

“Where’s your answer?”

Impatience. Dissatisfaction. The exciting thrill of fear and promise of pain courses through his veins in place of his blood, feverish titillation. “Yes, Sir.”

With practiced ease, Taeyong undresses himself completely, leaving him bare but safe for a black, poplin choker tightly buckled around his neck. As Jaehyun’s command, as Jaehyun’s order. “Good boy,” Jaehyun coos, Taeyong purrs in artless ecstasy at his approval. He is  _ good _ , he’s being  _ good _ for Jaehyun. “You like it, don’t you, Hyung? Being called  _ good _ ? Being  _ good _ for me?”

“Yes,” Taeyong answers quickly, breathless. His eyes meet Jaehyun’s, tornado of lust meeting volcano of desire. Catastrophe, fatal disaster, but if they bring destruction, then that also means they bring creation. Genesis, beginning of something, of a new, exciting game Jaehyun and Taeyong are about to play. “Yes, Sir, I  _ love _ it, being good for you, to you. I love it.”

“You love it,” Jaehyun says, an amused smile spreading across his handsome face; face that Tayong is sure was carved by the hands of God himself. He taps his cheek with his finger, slow, calculated beat. Countdown to the opening of their grand lascivious play. “I bet you’ll love what we’re about to do more. Or rather; your  _ punishment _ .”

Jaehyun’s tone drops, far below, and Taeyong is starting to fall, too, growing hazy with every  _ tap tap _ of Jaehyun’s long, able fingers.

“Your answer?”

“Yes, Sir,” he responds, dazed with arousal and salacious fantasy.

“Good boy,” Jaehyun says again, Taeyong squirms, and he flushes at how easily he grows hard.

He can feel his cock already rock-hard, curled flat to his stomach. Jaehyun hasn’t even done anything remotely sexual, yet he’s already this far gone. Taeyong bites his lips, taking shuddering breath to compose himself. He can’t help it, Jaehyun when he’s like this;  _ this _ authoritarian and absolute, is doing all sort of things to him.

Taeyong loves to be dictated and owned, to belong to someone who has total control over him. To have someone deciding his action, to have someone guiding him, and do whatever they want to do to him.

To let someone break you under your consent, crack you apart into tiny dust of silver and platinum before assembling you back together. People will say he’s weird, but Taeyong  _ loves _ it, love to trust someone this  _ deep _ , this  _ much _ , and then some.

His surrender is faith, entrusting all of himself to someone who will not only  _ use _ him but  _ takes care _ of him; to hurt him when he wants to be hurt, to leave him bruises where he wants to be bruised. Because the torture in itself is sign of love, of wanting to please him and grant his illicit wishes that he could not speak of.

Jaehyun hates to hurt him, knowing that Taeyong has been  _ hurting _ too much before, not from physical pain but worse; invisible, immaterial pain that he cannot even patch to heal because he couldn’t even pinpoint where did he exactly bleed. He loves to take care of Taeyong, to protect him, to make sure Taeyong is loved and cherished, as a person, as a whole being who has his own will and volition.

And if to be hurt is Taeyong’s wish, then Jaehyun will play the God who grants his longing, promising that he’d take care of Taeyong later, kissing all spots that ache with feverish, revering kisses.

God, he can come already just from the mental image, except he cannot because Jaehyun has not told him to, and the game is barely starting. The show is still rehearsing, Jaehyun is the director and the actor, holding the script in his hand. Taeyong is another actor, waiting, willing to do whatever Jaehyun wants him to.

“I want you to stand still,” Jaehyun orders again, then he stands up, walking towards Taeyong with long, measured steps. A majestic stride of a King; certain and sovereign. Taeyong whimpers just from watching those infinite legs moving across the damp tiles.

Jaehyun stops just before him; toes separated by taunting inches. The raven swallows, drawing his shoulders in together to make himself look as small as possible in Jaehyun’s dominating presence.

“This,” he murmurs, fingers curling around the black strap. His knuckle is pressing on the skin of Taeyong’s chest, right on his sternum; grounding, asserting. Taeyong’s breathe catches. “Should be done right.”

Taeyong watches, mesmerized, as Jaehyun’s fingers - fingers that had pleasured him for too many ways to count, fingers that had been buried deep inside of him and explored parts of him that he didn’t know could be found. Fingers that had him undone and completed; peeling him off until he is bared to his core, only to bring him together again with the very same fingers; old yet brand new, still retaining the same parts but stronger, even better under Jaehyun’s care - start moving.

They work methodically, clock-work precision, unbuckling the silver clasp, loosening the tight loop, letting them fall on Taeyong’s nape before sliding them off with one, swift and strong flick of his wrist. Taeyong hisses when the belt scraps harshly against his skin, cock throbbing from the sweet, painful friction. He can feel redness blooming already, and he needs  _ more _ ; scars, marks, brands. Jaehyun.

Jaehyun holds the collar in his palm, silently assessing. Taeyong wonders what Jaehyun is thinking, but whatever it is, he hopes it includes lots of painful loving and achingly cloying torture.

“Do you know how, Hyung?” Jaehyun asks, still staring at the belt in his palm.

Taeyong nods, mute, then he realizes Jaehyun cannot hear him; realizes Jaehyun has not ordered him silence and he is obligated to answer him, verbally. “Yes.”

Jaehyun finally looks at him, one brow raised in amusement and lips curved into crooked smile. “Really? Do tell me, then.”

He locks their eyes together, abyss of hunger and desire mirroring each other. In the depth of bottomless darks are fire, flickering bright with unhidden need; calling, beckoning. “You,” Taeyong answers, breathless, “shall put it on me, Sir.”

“Perfect,” Jaehyun smirks, Taeyong’s eyes go glassy, mouth falling open at the thought of having Jaehyun putting the collar on him; branding him,  _ owning _ him. “You like that, Sub?”

_ Sub _ , his core trembles at the label that has been given to him. “Yes, Sir. I like –  _ love _ – it.”

“And?” Jaehyun prompts, leaning closer until they’re nose to nose. Taeyong’s head spins, spins in a pleasant way like inhaling opium, or being dosed with the right amount of morphine until everything else blurs away into swirling rainbows and there are blankets of warmth surrounding you. Except that maybe being close to Jaehyun is even better than the effects of all opiates combined; because even if you love drugs, they do not love you back like Jaehyun does.

Taeyong steps forward, exhales shakily when he circles his fingers around Jaehyun’s wrist. “Put it on me, Sir. Please,” he pleads –  _ begs _ – and bends his head down, eyelids sliding shut, sign of submission. Permission. “Please make me yours.”

Jaehyun presses a kiss on the crown of his head, tenderly. Taeyong wants to cry at the sudden show of innocent affection that clashes with the obscenity of their situation. “You’re mine, Lee Taeyong” he murmurs as he slowly loops the black cloth around Taeyong’s neck, the silky material rests heavy on his nape, weighing him down, reminding him of his place; under Jaehyun, under his care and order. Under his love boundless infinite like ocean that embraces the earth with its sapphire blue arms.

With the same accuracy he had when taking the collar off, Jaehyun puts it back on. Nimble fingers sliding the strip of cloth in between the silver square buckle, tugging hard, sharp to ensure it’ll stay securely around Taeyong’s neck while Jaehyun has his way with him. Taeyong gasps, or maybe moans, or he chokes, he doesn’t -  _ cannot  _ \- differentiate them, too heady with salacious pleasure. Jaehyun smirks, inserting the thin metal into the first opened hole, slips the cloth under the last band of metal, and with another firm pull of his hand, Taeyong is marked, branded;  _ belonged _ , and his heart swells as much as his cock, he sighs in pure bliss, already half melting inside.

“Perfect,” Jaehyun breathes out, in awe, enraptured, eyes drinking in the sight of his lover, all bare except for the black poplin cloth around his neck;  _ Jaehyun _ ’s sign.  _ His. His. His _ . “You are so perfect, Hyung. Sub. Like this, belonging to me.”

“Yours,” Taeyong says, affirming, consenting with a faint nod, teetering in between. “Always yours. Only yours.”

“Mine,” the blond nods, giving a subtle tug that elicits another moan from Taeyong’s mouth. He smiles, summer waves brilliant. “You are mine, so tell me what you want, Sub. Tell me what you need, all of it. Tell me.”

What he wants, what he  _ needs _ . Taeyong’s mind wanders, far away land of obscene indulgence. He wants everything and nothing at once; Jaehyun’s love, Jaehyun’s rough hand on his skin, Jaehyun’s lips marking him, Jaehyun deep inside of him. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun.  _ Jaehyun _ .

“Sub.”

“I want you to pull me,” Taeyong confesses with trembling lips, words tumble out, clear in its intention like marbles, rolling to Jaehyun’s bare feet. “On my leash, this collar,  _ this _ ,” he groans, frustrated, brain not working properly from the rush of thrill on his back at the thought of his desire. “I want to kneel down for you, to have you pull on my leash. On the floor, crawl as you lead me. Like, like-“

Taeyong sobs. God,  _ this _ is hard. This won’t be the first time he asks something like this from Jaehyun, they had done this before, but even then, it required a lot; of bravery to admit his humiliating need. Trusting Jaehyun is easier, he trusts Jaehyun will not see him any less no matter how shameful Taeyong’s craving is. All the more reason why he should come clean, because Jaehyun will make sure that whatever Taeyong wants and needs are, they will be fulfilled, no bias, no judgement, just love.

“Like I’m an animal, pet. I want you to treat me like a pet, your obedient pet. I will be good for you, I want to be. I want to be on my knees as you order me around, I want you to fuck me as you pull my leash tight, that I can hardly breathe. I want to come with you inside of me, I want-“

Jaehyun stops him with hard, bruising kiss. Non verbalized  _ yes _ . A promise sealed with the lock of their lips. His hand is still holding the collar tightly; the other is cradling Taeyong’s face, keeping his head in place. “And I,” Jaehyun says once he breaks their kiss, mouth shining wet with saliva, “want you to take my clothes off. So bite this.”

The hand on his cheek shifts, thumb slipping in between Taeyong’s half-opened lips, forcing it fully open with gentle pressure. He then puts the end of the strap in his mouth. Taeyong, having heard his command, dutifully closes his mouth, the smooth cloth rests heavy on his tongue.

“Good boy,” Jaehyun taps his left cheek, the elder shudders. “I assume you’d want to start soon, hmm? We can’t if I’m fully clothed. Take my sweater off.”

Taeyong would have spoken if it isn’t for the cloth between his teeth. He hums instead, hoping Jaehyun would catch the message. The satisfied smile on his face says he does. Humming again, this time from innocent happiness of being understood, Taeyong slips his fingers beneath the soft, cream fabric of Jaehyun’s sweater. He wants to feel around the boy’s soft skin but he’s not sure Jaehyun would be pleased, Taeyong, too, wants  _ this _ to start soon after all. He rolls the shirt up, revealing Jaehyun’s beautiful, unblemished skin inch by inch; his mouth starts to water, sopping his collar. He gives a slight tug once they’re rolled up until his Dom’s chest; the blond complies immediately, raising his hands so Taeyong can remove the clothes from him with ease.

He lets the sweater fall to the floor into a crumpled heap by his feet. In usual situation, the mess would have bothered him, but here they’re in their own scene; their private, exceptional element. Something out of ordinary can be tolerated just like how the night approves of their lascivious affair. “I think you can do the next task with me holding your leash,” Jaehyun says, still smiling like cat with canary. “Open your mouth.”

Taeyong does as ordered, the cloth is already wet with his saliva yet Jaehyun holds them with no hesitation like they’re not filthy at all, fingers going slick with Taeyong’s spit.

“What do you want next, Sub -  _ pet _ ,” Taeyong flushes all the way to his ears, thrill kissing the nubs of his spines. “Tell me, say it.”

“Your pants, I want them off. I need them off, I want to see your legs, your strong calf, your thigh that I use as pillow. Your cock,” the elder boy swallows thickly. “I want to kiss your skin as I take your pants off, inch by inch. To kiss your erection, I  _ need _ you to order me to.”

“And if I order you not to?” Jaehyun asks, taunting.

Taeyong’s eyes widens in fear, jaws going slack at the prospect. His stomach churns, does the cruel twist that sends his heart caving. “Please, Sir. Please, I-”

“You can’t,” Jaehyun hammers down his judgement, Taeyong feels his heart being shredded at the denial. “You can take my pants off but no touching other than that. Understand, Pet?”

“Eung,” he groans, tears wet his eyes, but he must not let them fall. This is his task; his  _ order _ , his  _ mission _ , for the time being it is his  _ raison d’etre _ . He is a good Sub -  _ pet  _ \- of Jaehyun, Jaehyun trusts him to follow his order, and he must not betray it. But he wants to cry still because his cock is already throbbing so badly, leaking precum just from fantasy alone. He needs to touch Jaehyun right now, needs to be touched and taken care of as well, or he’d explode; not only into tinsels and colorful streams of confetti, but also grey ashes of despair.

“Be good, Pet. Only then you can earn your reward,” Jaehyun jerks the leash downward, forcing a nod out of his pet. “Don’t forget  _ this _ is your punishment. But if you take it well, I  _ promise _ I’ll give you your treat, okay?”

“Jae-”

“It’s  _ Sir _ for you now,” another tug, this time gentle. “Where’s your answer?”

Taeyong sobs, eventually letting a single drop of tear to trickle down his cheek. “Yes, Sir. I will- I won’t touch you when I take off your pants.”

“Perfect. My pet. Now this is your first treat,” Jaehyun kisses him, rose petal-tender, on his lips. Taeyong’s heart sears with affection, he wants to touch this man, to hold him and never let go, to profess his love and undying gratitude. But he can’t, not now; later when Jaehyun has done punishing him and is taking care of him with those mellifluous fingers of his. “You are not allowed to talk unless to answer me, okay? You understand, Pet?”

He nods, affirms it with quivering, “yes, Sir.”

One of Jaehyun’s hands move to circle his wrist, drawing it close until Taeyong’s fingers are splayed over the edge of his pants. “Go on.”

Taeyong wastes no time, working on the button and zipper with clumsy yet well-trained fingers. Jaehyun has discarded the belt earlier, making the process of removing his pants exceptionally fuss-free and easy. He slides the soft material off from Jaehyun’s hips, along with his dark blue boxer briefs. His adonis belt might not be that deep, but accentuated enough to make Taeyong’s mind recedes into static buzz of arousal. They lead to his pubic hair; thick, dark and curly where his cock is nestled.

Taeyong moans internally because he is not allowed to make any sound. Jaehyun is  _ huge _ , bigger than anyone else Taeyong has seen (with exception of Johnny), perfect length and perfect girth, he knows for it has given him mindless ecstasy so many times before. Taeyong wants to lick it so badly,  _ needs _ to feel that hotly scalding weight on his tongue, inhaling Jaehyun’s natural musky scent, swallowing the unique bitterness of his fluid. He hopes Jaehyun will let him today, but even if not, Taeyong will be okay with that, because more than anything, more than the carnal urge to taste the most intimate part of Jaehyun, he  _ needs _ to be Jaehyun’s good pet.

When the pants are rolled down to Jaehyun’s knee, Taeyong has to kneel down to get them off completely. He bends his knee, unthinking, but chokes out immediately when he feels his throat constricting. “Eung?!”

Above him, Jaehyun chuckles. Taeyong feels every inch of himself burn from inside out.

The choker. The collar. The leash on Jaehyun’s grip.

It doesn’t only brand him, it constrains his movement, limiting his action. Keeping him in check. Controlling.  _ Oh _ , Taeyong thinks, head spinning with epiphany.  _ This _ is exactly why people love collar. A symbol of domination is nothing more than strap of leather and material of preference, even smooth poplin cloth like this. They look fragile, breakable, but just like the dynamic it symbolizes; they hold much more power, indestructible.

Taeyong peers up at his dominant, glassy eyes pleading. Jaehyun smirks, all majestic and handsome, and under the bright fluorescent light of their bathroom, the dark gold of his hair shine like a crown; bejewelled with citrine colored topaz. If Jaehyun is the king, then Taeyong will be his servant; following where Jaehyun’s sceptre of wisdom points to, and obeys every command what his red like ruby lips demand.

“Why did you stop, pet? I don’t remember telling you to.” Jaehyun brushes his bangs back, thumb resting on Taeyong’s sweaty forehead. That spot burns, hotter than the rest of his body because just by being touched by Jaehyun like this is enough to make Taeyong’s whole cells overdrive. “You want to stop?”

“No,” Taeyong shakes his head. “I- the collar. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Cute,” Jaehyun strokes his skin tenderly. “But you like it, right?”

Another flick of wrist, this time, harder to send him off balance. Taeyong feels his upper body being yanked forward. His instinct tells him to hold on Jaehyun’s thigh except Jaehyun has told him; _no touching_ _unless to remove him off his clothing._ And how impossible it seems now when Taeyong finds his face literally falling to Jaehyun’s crotch; lips barely inches away from Jaehyun’s red and hot cock.

His mouth falls open like door losing its hinges. “Answer me, Sub.” Jaehyun orders him.

_ Fuck, _ Taeyong thinks. “Yes, Sir. Yes.” He answers, breathless, his eyes zeroing to Jaehyun’s erection. “I like it when you pull on my collar. I like it that you make it hard to breathe.”

Yes, he loves it, can feel every single muscle in his body sings with pleasure when Jaehyun restricts the oxygen to his lungs. It’s dizzying, he feels giddy with twisted excitement; to know that Jaehyun literally controls his breathing, regulating the basic action Taeyong needs to live like Taeyong is not allowed to stay unless Jaehyun wants him to.

_ Fuck _ , Taeyong thinks, again. He can depart anytime now to that land of cotton-candy and liquid stars, where he knows nothing but seventh heaven’s pleasure and mind-numbing bliss. He cannot though because he’s not allowed to, because their game hasn’t even started yet and Taeyong would rather die than miss the promised indulgence.

“Good boy,” Jaehyun is still smirking, crooked on the side, one dimple deeper than the other. Taeyong wants to lick them, worship them, and memorize the curve and dip of that soft skin. “But you can be better, can’t you? You want this, right?”

Jaehyun shifts his hip, angling them so his cock is almost brushing Taeyong’s lips. The raven wants to die, both from humiliation and unfulfilled need that threaten to strangle him. He moans, closing his eyes and lips for Jaehyun has specifically forbid him to engage in any activity other than undressing him.

“If so, then hurry up and get my pants off. I love making you happy, Sub, but I can’t wait to be inside of you. Can you?”

“I can’t,” Taeyong gasps, shaking his head weakly. He wants it too, to have Jaehyun buried deep inside of him, reaching places of him that Taeyong didn’t know could be reached and bring him unending waves of rapture.

Jaehyun pushes him away from his crotch, Taeyong sighs in disappointment, eyes still locking on Jaehyun’s cock that has grown bigger if it’s even possible. With a firm squeeze, Jaehyun steadies him so Taeyong can continue the task he was given. “Eyes on me,” he murmurs, and the raven follows, gaze drifting upward, hypnotized.

It’s scary, he’d later muse, how easily Jaehyun can control him. Even though his body is now burning with torturous longing for Jaehyun’s cock, just one word; one order from Jaehyun can easily break that spell of arousal. It’s frightening, but not curious, not strange nor out of place, because with these roles between them, that’s how it should be; Taeyong submitting all of him to his  _ dongsaeng _ , his lover, his partner, the man who governs him from the tip of his fingers to the smallest particle that construct him to existence.

Their eyes meet; stars aligned, like finding something you never discovered before, like seeing for the first time. Entranced. Enraptured. Even with the poor lighting, Taeyong can make out the golden speck in Jaehyun’s dark carmine eyes; can make out the long, soft lashes that frame his eyes fuller on the outer corner. And those eyes, that sea of rich, dazzling tourmaline speak to him; of feelings too much for words to convey, of emotion so deep that abyss cowers in shame.

All of sudden, Taeyong just wants to cry, wants to curl on Jaehyun’s feet, wants to beg for his mercy as he recites his gratitude over and over again. Wants to pledge his loyalty and love that run too deep in his blood. He  _ loves _ this man, so much and some more. He loves this man who, even in this kind of wanton situation, can remove lust out of the picture, leaving nothing but twilight-colored emotion called love on the canvas. Taeyong loves him, and there will be more nights he spent wondering if he really deserve this incredible man in his life, but he will leave it  to those other nights. Tonight, he will be loved, so rough and carnal that his thought would be occupied by nothing but Jaehyun and his affection so primal.

“Beautiful,” Jaehyun murmurs, mesmerized. “God, Pe-  _ Hyung, Taeyongie-hyung _ , you’re so beautiful do you know that?”

Jaehyun sounds like he’s not breathing at all, too captivated, spellbind by Taeyong’s supposed ethereal beauty. Taeyong feels his cheeks heating up, heart singing hymns of glory. “All yours,” he says, “all of this, all of me, is yours, Sir. Tell me what to do, tell me what you need. Please.”

“Mine,” Jaehyun asserts his claim, tugging softly this time, Taeyong lets his body sway forward but maintains his position, back arching, aching with strain of keeping his balance. “Take off my pants, then be on your knees, on your hand; on all fours.”

“Yes, Sir,” Taeyong obeys dutifully. He continues his task, sliding the heavy fabric down Jaehyun’s strong, long legs. Finally, the blonde steps out of them, watching quietly as Taeyong takes his time to fold the pants before throwing them to join the rest of their discarded clothings.

One down, one more to go. Jaehyun steps back, loosening his hold on the leash to give Taeyong room to move. At his mercy, Taeyong wants to cry again, but he holds them back because Jaehyun has signaled him to continue. With a shuddering breath, Taeyong lets his instinct take over. Honed by experiences under the spilling black canvas of night, his muscle rolls fluidly like water, losing the clumsiness he possesses sometimes. He splays his palms on the floor, adding slight pressure on his wrists and upper arms to stay upright.

He did it all while looking at Jaehyun’s eyes, reveling in the way those pupils go even darker with every smooth move he makes. He can see the excitement ripples beneath Jaehyun’s skin, coloring his fair complexion in rich color of rose’s red. He assumes his own cheeks are bright with the same color, too, for being like this; on all fours with leash and collar like some well-trained animal, aroused him greatly.

Jaehyun swallows thickly, that his adam's apple bobs, Taeyong’s want to lick it is as maddening as the need to come. “Good boy,” Jaehyun praises. “Come here so I can give you your treat.  Eyes up, forward, no looking away.”

The blond turns, showing Taeyong his back; the width of his shoulder is just right, not too wide nor too narrow, perfect for Taeyong to wrap his arms around; the gull-wings of his back; his spines that cut his back symmetrically all the way to his hips; the small dimples on his lower hip that’s nowhere as deep as the ones on his cheeks but still cute anyways;  that strong, firm ass; those strong legs and their lean muscles.

Oh, how badly Taeyong wants to have all of them, to worship them with his lips, his teeth, and tongue. To chart them with his fingers like he’s a sailor in voyage of new land. But before he can draw the image of what he wants to do to that Adonis body of his lover, Jaehyun walks forward, of course not without tugging the leash.

Taeyong chokes out a gasp, Jaehyun doesn’t stop, keeps walking with slow, calculated step, and Taeyong has to follow. On his hands and knees, he crawls forward; inhuman, like animal, like pet –  _ Jaehyun _ ’s pet, Jaehyun’s to  _ walk _ and order. Jaehyun’s to love and govern.

They cross the bathroom in silence, only broken by the soft scraps of Taeyong’s skin with the damp tiles; faint hush of docility and guileless obedience. Jaehyun stops by the bathtub where he sat earlier, white porcelain throne. For a while he just stands there, tall and imposing. He still has his back turned on Taeyong so the elder cannot see his expression, only permitted to drink in the sight of that majestically sensuous back and its dips and slants.

Even distracted by his Dom’s sexy back, Taeyong can hear the gears and cogs turning inside Jaehyun’s head; thinking, pondering. Weighing between available options; viable means of  _ punishing _ Taeyong. Delicious fear runs through his arched spines; excitement, thrill. He can’t wait to have Jaehyun actually claiming him, using those dexterous fingers to bring Taeyong toward the welcoming gate of frenzied rhapsody.

“Do you want me to fuck you like this?” Jaehyun asks, not turning around, just giving a soft pull.

Taeyong’s head jerks forward.  _ Like this _ ? Does Jaehyun mean  _ like this _ as in  _ this _ with him on his limbs, crawling like a low animal?  _ Oh _ , he inhales, cock jumping between his legs. He’d like that, very much, being treated like something less than human, like Jaehyun’s property, like a beautiful exotic animal from lush wilderness that Jaehyun pampers more than he would love his human lover.

“Pet?”

“Yes,” Taeyong wheezes at another particular tug. He  _ loves _ that idea, this burning pain around his neck, the way Jaehyun literally strangles him with the collar and choke full of emotion. “Yes, Sir. I want you to fuck me  _ like this _ , on my knees, on my hands.”

Finally, Jaehyun looks at him, from behind his shoulder. Eyes dripping rich, sinful golden goo of honey. He’s beautiful, beautiful and Taeyong cannot think. Not when he fully turns around and show Taeyong that picturesque body of his; the slant of that hip, those lean muscles that wrapped beautifully around his bones, that slightly toned abdomen, the soft trail of hair that runs down to his impressive cock; purple and shining wet with come. “Hands on the tub, hold tight.”

Taeyong nods, heart and cock throbbing in sync. He crawls forward with Jaehyun leading him in soft, barely there pull of leash. He holds the edge of the tub, fingers curling around the cold porcelain; tight, like Jaehyun ordered him to.

“Good boy,” his Dom purrs before kneeling down beside him. Taeyong watches every roll and ripple of his muscles; from how his knees bend themselves and touch the tiles, from how his hips lower and his stomach clenches, to the way he drops his shoulder and raises one long, merciful hand to angle Taeyong’s chin to his direction before petting his hair. “You listen to me so well.”

Taeyong leans in to the touch, wanting to close his eyes in bliss but the order still stands;  _ eyes up, forward, no looking away _ . So he stares at Jaehyun, at his lover and his dimpled-smile and eyes like caramel.. He feels himself smiling, purely from simple happiness of being loved and adored. Underneath is a twisted satisfaction of being  _ good _ for his Dom, but like this, with Jaehyun tenderly, like a mother would her child, strokes his hair, Taeyong pretends they’re just like any other lover bathed under the sunlight, not a couple of Dom and Sub joined by collar and leash attached on Taeyong’s neck.

“Open your mouth, Pet. For me?” it’s an order, wrapped meticulously in golden-foiled paper and red, glossy ribbon. Taeyong obeys, drops his jaw and lets Jaehyun slip not only one, but two long fingers inside his mouth.

“Nnnn,” Taeyong moans at the intrusion, eyelids drooping but still looking at Jaehyun’s face. Studying the slope of his nose, the dark brows under silky aurulent tresses, the way his lashes cast shadow over the tender skin under his eyes.

Jaehyun holds the underside of Taeyong’s jaw with his thumb as his fingers inside Taeyong’s mouth continue their journey, prodding, massaging Taeyong’s tongues. Nothing imperative has been instructed, so Taeyong assumes it’s safe for him to move. When Taeyong closes his lips over Jaehyun’s knuckle, his Dom visibly shudders, smile growing into full smirk. “Good boy. My Pet.”

Taeyong moans again, sucking those long fingers, lapping them, curling his tongue around. Jaehyun moves his fingers in tandem with Taeyong’s ministration, fucking the raven’s mouth with glassy eyes and slack-jaw. The slurping noises echo in the quiet bathroom, bounces around the cold tiles. Sensuous, barbaric music of human’s lust. So carnal. So primal. If even the sound they make with simple finger fucking can be this  _ good _ , imagine how earth-shattering the one they’d compose when they’re making love?

“Enough,” Jaehyun tells him. Taeyong dutifully opens his mouth, watching from beneath hooded lips how Jaehyun’s fingers, wet and shining with saliva, are being drawn out from his mouth. He’s chased with sudden pang of loss and wants nothing but run after those digits once again.

But Jaehyun is already standing up, tall and imposing, painting grey shadow over Taeyong’s back. He circles around and Taeyong hisses when the movement drags his leash, pulling his head backward and upper body slightly raised. Taeyong is about to look back, momentarily forgetting his impetration in face of curiosity and heady pain of strangulation.

Then he hears the unmistakable sound of skin and bones hitting the floor. Faint like whisper of butterfly’s wings yet jarringly clear in Taeyong’s arousal-charged hearing.  _ Oh _ .

“EUNG!?!” Taeyong cries out in surprise when Jaehyun’s saliva-slicked digits, with no impromptu, no preamble, breaches the tight ring of muscles. Not one; two, two that Taeyong just lapped hungrily no more than few seconds ago. “Jae- Sir, wha-Nn!!”

Jaehyun scissors him, dry, no mercy. Two fingers pressing and pushing, trying to pry the cramped muscles open. They burn badly and the pain can knock Taeyong out of consciousness, but they enliven him too; searing heat that reminds that he is here, alive, under Jaehyun’s mandate and duty,  _ permitted  _ the luxury of sex and agony by Jaehyun’s mercy.

It feels so bad that it’s good, Taeyong cannot tell the two sensations apart, growing dizzier with every thrust of fingers. He forgets his being, can only moan deliriously, feeling himself slowly falling under to pool of Sirius liquefied. So bright. So hot. So intense. So  _ good _ .

“You love this,” Jaehyun’s voice comes, slowly stretching down like spider’s web. Taeyong grapples around for them, wrapping weak, trembling fingers around the thin, white thread. His anchor, keeping him afloat and present. “You love this, don’t you? Being fucked this raw and dry? This pain, you love this, hmm?”

Jaehyun jerks the leash, hard. Taeyong no longer has the power to scream, not that he can with how badly he starts coughing at the sudden asphyxiation. His fingers slipping from the bathtub, and like this, the only thing that’s supporting him is the thin, black, poplin cloth around his neck, stretched tautly by Jaehyun’s governing hand.

“Answer me, Pet. You know your color, you can tell me if this is too much.” Jaehyun gives the leash subtle drag, not hard enough to jerk his body backward, but still strong enough to tilt his head back, exposing his throat to the mute bathroom wall.

“Green, Sir. Fuck,” Taeyong wheezes, hands falling limply on his side, no longer minding the order to  _ hold the tub, tight _ . “I love this. I love this so much, Sir. Please.”

“More?”

Taeyong nods, a sob wrenched itself from his dry throat. He is leaking profusely now, ready to come anytime soon but doubts Jaehyun will let him. Because this; this ache, this pain, this mind-numbing throb, and love twisted and stretched into the liking of malady, is his  _ punishment _ . For breaking Jaehyun’s rule, for taking almost intimate picture with Johnny, for letting anyone else fasten collar around Taeyong’s neck.

“My answer, Pet?”

“More,” he cries out, tears falling from his eyes, glistening silver droplets like pearls. “More, Sir. I want more. I want you- you in me, dry, like this. This painful, fuck. Fuck me raw, Sir. Make me yours. I want you to- Nn!! Come inside of me, claim me-”

_ Love me _ , his soul begs, laments. His heart prays, to the colorful constellation entrapped in Jaehyun’s eyes. To the Sirius and Canopus that twinkle endlessly in Jaehyun’s heart. To God that conveys his message through Jaehyun’s words.

Taeyong wants them; the forbidden pain and love equally outlaw. The luxury of being the only one who’s allowed to see this side of Jaehyun, the one that is not as kind as his dimpled-smile, the one that is not as gentle as his helpful hands.

Only privy to Taeyong is the flash, merciless like thunder ripping the sky before the storm fall, in his eyes whenever he acts on his primal desire. Only shown to Taeyong is the glow, warm and brilliant like sun in summer sky, in his eyes whenever he actualizes his love so tender, with earnest words and worship-like touches. And lips that are not as honest as his eyes, but sincere either way.

_ His _ . Only Taeyong’s to see and feel; love that only his – Jaehyun’s Submissive – to wear proudly, show it off to the world like it’s the most valuable piece of jewelry on earth. The collar, now wrapped around his neck by Jaehyun’s hands.

How he wished it was Jaehyun who had put it on him earlier during the award ceremony, how he wished the thought had crossed their mind before they step out and bathe themselves under the limelight. If only they weren’t so busy, if only they had the luxury of time, Taeyong would ask Jaehyun to undo the collar and put it on him, so when they were out there for thousands of eyes to see, it would be Jaehyun’s ownership that’s fastened around his neck instead of just another piece of overpriced accessory.

And when people look at him, star-struck by Taeyong’s surreal beauty, the raven would feel at ease, for even though they’re trying to consume him with their greedy eyes, with Jaehyun’s collar, he’s marked and belonged.

Jaehyun growls, voice heavy with animalistic hunger. “Fuck,” he inserts the third finger, drier than the first two, and around the same time, he pulls Taeyong by the neck, sending him to upright position, back arching into perfect bow, head falling on Jaehyun’s shoulder.

Taeyong opens his mouth in silent scream, not quiet breathing, barely conscious; he is ready to depart anytime soon from the combination of added pleasure in his ass and the choking pain around his neck. He feels so many things at the same time; Jaehyun’s fortress-like chest on his back, the crushing pain in his lungs as they’re being denied of oxygen, the drag of Jaehyun’s –  _ dry, dry, dry _ –fingers on his insides, the friction of smooth cloth against his skin.

“Color?” Jaehyun inquires, starting to attack the side of his neck with lips hot like metal brand.

Taeyong wheezes, tensing when Jaehyun almost hit that sweet spot, tantalizingly close yet not quiet. He moans with disappointment, “green, Sir.”

“Do you want this?” Jaehyun presses his hip to Taeyong’s abused ass. The elder cries, desperate sob tumbling from his lips when he feels Jaehyun’s rock-hard cock against his sweltering skin.

“Oh, Sir. Yes, please. I want it – you, I need you,”

Jaehyun kisses the spot above his clavicle bones, soft, gentle, like he’s not finger-fucking Taeyong dry. Like the opening of morning glory bud under the sunlight. Like the falling of mimosa’s leaves under the barest of touch. Taeyong’s heart trembles with emotion, pure like snow, clear like the tears that trickle down his cheeks.

“Sir,” is the name that leaves his mouth, but he knows Jaehyun can hear, knows Jaehyun understands it’s not the title that Taeyong is calling.  _ Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun _ -

“God, I love you so much,” Jaehyun declares, on the area of his neck when his pulse is the strongest.

Taeyong sobs. Weak. Happy. He turns his head until his nose bumps with the soft shell of Jaehyun’s ear. “Please.”

One last plea. His last request. The last indulgence Jaehyun will allow him and after this, Taeyong swears he will make no more appeal. He will submit himself to Jaehyun completely; let Jaehyun pleasure their bodies with means that only him knows the knowledge of.

Jaehyun presses another kiss; still on the same spot, still with the same heart-breaking tenderness that sends Taeyong to far away land of aureate stars and silver moons. Inside of him, those long, excruciating fingers halt their movement before being pulled out completely.

Taeyong’s hole flutters at sudden emptiness, not yet accustomed to being so blank after the suffocating intrusion. Slowly, Jaehyun loosens his grip on the leash, with one hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, he gently guides Taeyong to lower his body, back on his knees and hands. “You may hold on the tub,” Jaehyun whispers on his ears, pressing one last kiss to Taeyong’s temple, and he lets go, hands moving to rest heavily on Taeyong’s hips, grip securing, leash still somehow wrapped around his digit, a slight strain on Taeyong’s neck. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt your head.”

Taeyong nods albeit restrained. Grateful for Jaehyun’s attentiveness. There are pressure added to his hips, Taeyong squeezes his eyes shut, preparing himself for what he knows is coming for him. He reaches for the edge of the tub, finding purchase on the cold, dank porcelain. With breath that trembles as much as his fingers, Taeyong forces his lower body to relax.

But nothing can quite prepare him, really, not when Jaehyun enters him – literally and in all possible senses –  _ raw _ , dry, no lubrication, no preparation. Nothing. Just Jaehyun in the most natural way he and his sinful body could be.

Taeyong’s mouth falls open in silent scream, eyes just as wide. He forgets the concept of breathing all together. Mind dazzled with infinite cluster of star, blinking red and silver. He probably loses consciousness at some point, because when he comes back to his senses, Jaehyun has already bottomed up, hot and pulsing inside of him.

“Fuck, it feels so good inside you,” Jaehyun moans gruffly. Only when he holds Taeyong’s hips, the raven realizes he is shaking so much, both from pain and exertion. “You’re so tight all around me, can you feel it, Pet? Can you feel me?”

Jaehyun doesn’t need to move to make Taeyong feel. Just being there, still as a rock, is enough. In fact, he’s all Taeyong can feel; the blunt head of his cock, his intrusive length, his spreading girth. He is filling Taeyong full to the brim, body and mind. Virus taking over. Taeyong is ready to submit, to let himself be controlled by this mind-numbing pleasure and cloyingly sweet torture. “I can,” he moans back his answer, blinking rapidly to gain senses of his bearings, to at least be present when he and Jaehyun becomes one. “I can, Sir. You- you feel good, too.”

“Uh-huh,” Jaehyun starts rocking his hips, Taeyong bites back a moan, for,  _ God _ , does it hurt like hell. Jaehyun is dry, and the only preparation Taeyong had were the equally dry fingers Jaehyun had used to fucked him earlier, his saliva, and Jaehyun’s cum that’s been leaking profusely acting as the only lubricant. “Remember to keep your voice down, Pet.”

And with that as his only warning, Jaehyun pulls out completely before thrusting in, balls slamming heavily to Taeyong’s ass. The force sends Taeyong’s body lurching forward, but thanks to the imperative, he avoids hitting his head on the tub. A gasp tumbles out from his mouth, falling to the bottom of the white-porcelain tub, followed by muffled moan after moans.

Jaehyun is merciless, only growing faster with every thrust. He fucks Taeyong, raw, fast, dry, laughing when he hits close to home, only to miss it purposely next. Taeyong keens desperately, he wants to move and angle his hip so Jaehyun can drive his lovely, lovely cock to where Taeyong needs him to be, but Jaehyun’s fingers are hot, burning chains of restrain. Imprinting order to the tender skin of his hips. There’s a slight tug of leash, and Taeyong fails to keep a breathy moan of disappointment contained in his mouth. “Nuh-uh, you come without me hitting your sweet spot, Pet. This is punishment remember?”

“Nnn,” Taeyong cries, delirious with disappointment and infinite delight. Punishment never been sweeter. He holds the tub tighter as he starts to cant his hips back to meet Jaehyun’s speeding thrust. His Dom laughs again, giving his skin a sweet stroke as he rams in, skirting close to the trigger that can send Taeyong high and above.

But he misses it, of course. Taeyong curses mentally, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his teeth deeper to his lips that he’s sure he bleeds. His ass probably bleeds too, but he cannot tell if the scorching sting in his ass was from tore open skin and muscle or from Jaehyun’s relentless thrusting.

“This,” Jaehyun slows down his pace, pulling the silky leash until Taeyong’s head is tipped back. “is what you want, right? You like this, huh, Pet? Tell me?”

“I do, I-  _ nnn _ , I love it, Si-  _ NNH! _ ” Taeyong’s babble is cut short, just like the oxygen supply to his lungs, when Jaehyun suddenly picks up his pace again. He can almost hear his laugh rumbling through their joined skin, or maybe the obscene sounds of their slapping skins have always been Jaehyun’s laugh since the beginning, born from the joy of this illicit game they’re playing.

“I do, too, you know. Love this, love you,” with a particular strong jerk that makes Taeyong choke out a harsh cough, Jaeyung pulls his entire body up backward. He ropes one arm around Taeyong’s torso, securing his Sub’s trembling body to his own. Taeyong lets his head fall to Jaehyun’s shoulder, chest heavy as they chase for even sliver of oxygen. It seems impossible with how 

fast Jaehyun is fucking him, the new position allows him a new angle but he is still not hitting that one point that Taeyong desperately wants him to.

Taeyong tries to catch his breath, now only on his knees, fingers roaming blindly around Jaehyun’s arm before finding purchase there. He would scream with how Jaehyun keeps on ramming into him in delirious frenzy, mind blowing notes of lewd rhapsody. However, Jaehyun has specifically ordered him to stay quiet, so he swallows his scream and replaces it with wordless moans, biting his lips to contain them whenever a shout is about to overspill.

“Good boy,” Jaehyun starts peppering kisses on the side of his neck, alternating between tickle like kiss and gentle suckle that wouldn’t leave any mark for they still have schedule tomorrow.

Taeyong momentarily flutters through the catalogue of his mind;  _ schedule, January 21 _ _ st _ _ , noon, SM coex _ .  _ Fansign.  _ There will be people, alright, so many people, and Jaehyun must not leave a mark. Taeyong must not leave any, too, at least not where people can see. Another worry starts nagging in his head, whiny cry from his last remaining ratio.  _ Walk, can you walk tomorrow after this _ ?

As if reading his mind, Jaehyun chuckles, dragging his cock out with slow pace before driving him in contrasting speed. “don’t worry, I’m not leaving anything here,” he presses his nose to where the choker meets the skin, “and you will walk just fine tomorrow. I  _ want _ you to.”

_ Oh _ , Taeyong blinks, already standing by the gate of paradise, legs cushioned by cloud nine.  _ Oh _ , if Jaehyun  _ wants _ him to walk, then Taeyong  _ will _ . If Jaehyun  _ wants _ him to walk, then Taeyong  _ can _ , no matter how much his lower region hurts. No matter how much his hips would ache with delicious burn the next day.

“Can you?”

Jaehyun’s head comes tantalizing close to Taeyong’s sweet spot, the elder keens in frustrated ecstasy, head falling forward and fully exposing his neck to his lover, expanse of creamy sweat-slicked gold that Jaehyun immediately laps. Taeyong’s stomach grows tight, muscle going taut;  _ this _ feels so good, Jaehyun’s cruel order feels so good, the harsh slaps of their skins feel so good –  _ Jaehyun _ feels so fucking good, all merciless and commanding,  and with purposely bad angled thrust, with another jerk to his leash, with another-

“Come, Pet, come for me.”

\- serenaded sweetly to his trembling skin, Taeyong comes; spurting hot white ribbon all over the damp tiles. He whines through his tightly clamped mouth, tears after tears leaking from his screwed shut eyes.

Jaehyun doesn’t drop his pace, maintaining the rapid tempo of his hip’s movements. Another laugh - merry, happy, jubilant – rings from his lips, the vibration tingles Taeyong’s sensitive skin, limp cock twitching alive again at the drag of muscles inside his ass. “Such a good boy, Taeyongie, good pet,” he coos, dragging Taeyong’s head back to his shoulder with sharp flick of his wrist.

Taeyong moans, sweet and sated, the collar around his neck anchoring him to the ground, halting him from his depart to the land of singing moon and dancing stars. Jaehyun is still buried deep inside of him, still moving in and out of him, still swiftly chasing after his own release. Taeyong feels compelled suddenly, to give Jaehyun that pleasure, to take him to the peak of his lust. Despite his weariness, Taeyong starts rocking Back to his Dom, sobbing quietly each time Jaehyun hits a tender spot that sends delicious buzz down his arched spine.

“Good boy, so good for me,” Jaehyun moans, and if possible, increases his speed. Taeyong gasps; digging his nails deeper into the flesh of Jaehyun’s toned arms in surprise. He just came, he’s still sensitive, but Jaehyun doesn’t seem to care as he continues fucking that one point inside Taeyong in race for his climax. His pants flood Taeyong’s ears, chasing away any other noises from his hearing, not excluding the vulgar, wet slapping of their skins.

“Si-“ the younger boy stills suddenly behind him, Taeyong gasps, jaw falling slack when Jaehyun spill his cum inside, hotly permeating through every gap and corner inside of him that Taeyong doesn’t even know exist.

Jaehyun growls low in his throat, tightly sealed lips pressed against Taeyong’s neck. The whisper of lashes on his skin tells him his Dom has his eyes closed as well, Taeyong hopes beneath those close lids, Jaehyun is seeing the garden of nirvana that he has seen earlier as well when he reached his climax; vibrant lush with colorful blooms under billowing cloud of blue sky, surrounded by warmth of gilded, golden sun.

Taeyong is aching all over, his whole body rippling with bone-melting pain, swirled in with intoxicatingly sweet caramel. He is still down under, still floating in space of liquid diamonds and sunshine, still high with the achingly luscious pleasure, and love fierce as it is tender, like Jaehyun’s lips on his skin, scaling the map of his neck, suckling here and there, not hard enough to leave mark but enough to make Taeyong’s head spin.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this,” Jaehyun murmurs, kissing the bone where his jaw meets his ear, “all ruined and open because of me.”

If he has any energy left at all, Taeyong would answer;  _ only you, for you _ , but he can barely keep his eyes open, not sure if he’s already in the same plane with Jaehyun who’s trailing another wet kiss down the side of his neck.

If he has any left, he’d wrap his arms around Jaehyun, gathering his Dom even though he knows his small, frail arms can never be big enough to have all of him in his hold, but he’d still try anyways; because he loves him, much more than he thought he could, and he’d recite his oath; that he belongs to Jaehyun and only for Jaehyun he’d reveal himself like this.

Jaehyun stops his kisses and is quiet after that, just holding Taeyong close and breathing harshly on his nape. “Sir?” curious and half-worried, Taeyong asks weakly, shifting his head. His knees are burning as hotly as his ass from the friction with cold, hard tiles. But his heart sears even more, with revelry of sex and felicity of love. “Are you-“

“We’re not done,” Jaehyun murmurs, raspy. In one swift movement, he slips out from Taeyong, and before the elder can comprehend the situation, Jaehyun lets go of his leash, only to manhandle him until he is carrying Taeyong in his arms. Taeyong loops his arms around Jaehyun’s shoulder in instinct to keep himself from falling, mind too stunned in its astonishment. “No talking, we’re not done, yet.”

Obediently, Taeyong clamps his mouth shut again. _Not done. Round two. Another_. Jaehyun steps inside the bath-tub. Taeyong sucks in shuddering breath. He can hardly feel his lower region from how much it hurts, but Jaehyun is not over playing with him. Suddenly the order to walk tomorrow becomes far from plausible. Taeyong gulped, desperately grappling after a shred of his willpower. He _can_ , he _will_ , Jaehyun has ordered him to.

Taeyong is quiet as a flower; red, whites, and tender, as Jaehyun works their position inside the bathtub. The blond sits back, reclining in the bath tub, toned-legs stretching long. He makes Taeyong straddles his hip, hands on either side of his shoulders, but without making him actually seated, still propped by his knees. “Okay?” He inquires, one hand skimming on the black collar and another on the small of Taeyong’s hips, rubbing softly as if they ease away the ache and strain he has made Taeyong go through.

How badly Taeyong wants to kiss him now. It’s as if Jaehyun has this switch inside of him that he can flip back and forth from being ferocious dominant beast to sweet, adoring lover with candy-coated eyes and nectarous words. “Mm. I’m okay, Sir.”

Jaehyun smiles, colorful curve of rainbow and hopeful blue after the rain. Taeyong’s heart flutters, melodious flaps of birds taking flight. He brushes Taeyong’s sweat-clumped hair back, stroking gently. “Did you like it?”

Taeyong hums, contended, happy, pain that spikes his hips forgotten. Under Jaehyun’s dove-like ministration, he feels his body relaxing, tight knots of muscles unshackling themselves from the lock, melting like snow under the sun. “You’re perfect, amazing, Sir. I like –  _ love _ – it,” the confession slips out easily from his mouth, coaxed by the pacifying fingers on his skin. “Nobody does it better than you.”

“Not like I’ll let anybody else do you,” Jaehyun grins, surging forward to nip at Taeyong’s nose carefully. The raven laughs, body falling backward but Jaehyun quickly wraps an arm around his middle, pulling him close so he gets an armful of Taeyong on his lap.

Their eyes meet, giggling wordlessly. Taeyong smiles so wide the corner of his mouth aches, but he doesn’t care. Like this, being taken care of Jaehyun, makes him believe that the world is  a better place already, and will forever be no matter what future decides to bring upon them. In those eyes, he finds peace. In these arms, he finds love. In this boy who has slowly grown to become a man, he feels a solace he never knew he’d be forgiven to have. He loves him, doesn’t think he will ever stop even if one day Jaehyun decides to, and he wants to say it, claim it out loud for the whole world to hear, yet Jaehyun still orders him silence, so Taeyong, being an obedient Sub he is, must follow. For the time being, he lets his eyes do the talking, shining brilliantly with vivid emotions unsaid.

Jaehyun understands him, always does with accuracy that makes Taeyong’s heart glows in wonder. “I know, I love you too. So much, you know? I’m not letting anyone else love you as much as I do.” He presses a kiss on Taeyong’s lips, chaste, innocent, betraying the carnality of their previous love making. “And, umm, I want to do something,” he murmurs, suddenly turning shy with the hint of pink that tinged his milky cheeks.

Taeyong cocks his head aside, curious. Jaehyun flicks his gaze to the collar, to Taeyong’s eyes, then back to the collar before swallowing. At the sudden bout of bashfulness, Taeyong can’t help but ask, not with words, but with a coaxing whine, “Nnn?”

“Hold still,” Jaehyun says and with shaky fingers, he unclasps the buckle of Taeyong’s choker.

Taeyong inhales sharply, suddenly in panic at the thought of not having that grounding tightness around his neck. He grabs Jaehyun’s wrists in flurry of his confusion;  _ isn’t this part of their play? Isn’t the collar part of his punishment? Doesn’t Jaehyun love to see him in collar like this? Did he do anything wrong? _ Taeyong sobs weakly, shaking his head with refusal as he meets Jaehyun’s astonished gaze. He bites the corner of his lips, squeezing out fresh wave of tears; of fear and dismay. Of sadness and refusal.

“Shit,” the curse leaves his mouth in gasp. He lets go of the collar, letting the cloth dangling limply around Taeyong’s nape. With the same hands, he seizes Taeyong’s wet face, cradling them tenderly like he’d do a diamond then presses kisses, so many kisses to Taeyong’s closed lids, to his nose, to his temple and cheeks, his quivering lips, before finding home back again somewhere above his damp lashes. “No, no, no, no, no. Pet – Sub,  _ Hyung _ .”

He fumbles through to pick the right name, eventually choosing the one that he knows can placate his Sub’s clamoring heart the best. Taeyong sobs, succumbing into the warmth of Jaehyun’s palms on his cheeks, leaning forward so he can have those pair of velvety lips even closer to his skin, still holding onto his wrists tight. A lifeline. An anchor. Doesn’t want to let go, wanting to be connected to Jaehyun no matter how flimsy the link is.

A slim, smooth, poplin cloth. Overpriced piece of accessory. A symbol of ownership. Stigmata of dominance. “It’s okay. I just, I want to do  _ this _ ,” Jaehyun says quickly, sliding the cloth off from Taeyong’s nape with heart-searing gentleness. He pulls back slightly, letting Taeyong’s grips linger, even though the raven has uncurl his fingers to a loose curl around those strong wrists.

Jaehyun stals one more glance, peering up at Taeyong from under the dark curtain of lashes. He inhales deeply before, with one swift movement, puts the cloth around his neck;  _ oh _ .

Taeyong can’t breathe. Taeyong can’t think. Taeyong can’t feel anything but the concerto of his maddeningly quickening heartbeat. Taeyong can’t see anything but Jaehyun; Jaehyun and his ripe, peachy cheeks. Jaehyun and the shy murmur of his lashes on milky skin. Jaehyun and the slight open of his wet, shining lips. Jaehyun and his digits around Taeyong’s palms, bringing them until they rest against the skin of his clavicle, knuckle-bones meeting his collar-bones. “Hyung.”

_ Fuck _ . Taeyong can think again, but his heart is still hurried fingers hitting the wrong notes of piano keys, eyes still reading at the wrong scores of partitur.  _ This can’t be happening _ , his frenzied mind says. Jaehyun proves him wrong, refuting by guiding Taeyong’s shaky fingers to wrap around the silky cloth. _ This can’t- _

“I want you to put this on me,” Jaehyun says –  _ orders, asks _ – with fatality of rising and setting sun.

He locks their gazes together, citrine-caramel eyes glimmering like twinkling star, sending a message; a signal, a code that is only Taeyong’s to decipher. His smile is lopsided, edged with timidity. Jaehyun looks so boyish. A complete opposite to what he had been in the past twenty minutes. He looks so familiar, so dear, so  _ Jaehyun _ . He is suddenly not the gentle Dominant that has introduced Taeyong to the world of pleasure built upon trust and discipline. He is Jaehyun – just  _ Jeong Jaehyun _ and dimpled-smile, Jeong Jaehyun with his habit of hiding his face in his palms when he is shy.

“I know this is weird, I mean, I’m supposed to be the Dominant in this relationship, and Doms don’t wear collar-“ he falters, about to chew his lips in nervousness but Taeyong in his curious startle, stops him by giving the cloth in his grip –  _ the collar _ – a slight jerk.

Jaehyun moans, long and drawn, brows knitting together, eyes pinching into slits but still opened, looking at Taeyong with amber-colored flicker within those gleaming caramels. Even if he no longer has the restraints around his neck, breathing is still a chore for Taeyong, if not even more difficult. There are so many things he wants to say, to ask, to address. To demand explanation for so he can understand, so he doesn’t have to deal with this stanza of disorientation in his head.

But Jaehyun speaks again, halting the crowding questions in Taeyong’s throat from pouring out. “I just, I want to tell you, I want you to know, Hyung. Taeyongie-hyung,” he kisses Taeyong, slow and gentle. Beams of aureate gold seeping through grey cloud. “That I’m yours, only yours. And only you can do this to me;  _ this _ .”

He skims over the cloth to his Sub’s hands, brushing Taeyong’s knuckles with the rough pad of his digits. Taeyong’s eyes follow the movement, mesmerized by the way his own fingers are curling over the silky black material. A leash of a makeshift collar. A brand. A mark. A device of submission. In formal relationship of fully committed Dominant and Submissive, akin to ring in traditional marriage.

Dominant, however, doesn’t wear collar. It is not unheard of, but it is extremely rare. The implication behind Jaehyun’s order – to have Taeyong collared him, is of huge significance. Ultimate sign of trust. Uttermost faith. Unconditional love.

Taeyong is full; with emotion, with love that keeps the star in Jaehyun’s eyes from fading out. He is canvas full, with brilliant color of Jaehyun’s brush strokes, no blank space left in sight. But Jaehyun wants more, and Taeyong does too; more of those heart-searing dyes and pigments.

Of love, love that threatens to shatter him into pieces of razzle-dazzle gemstone in different colors.

They are lining up in his throat, begging to be spoken out loud and acknowledged, not just another thought that decays in his head. But he can’t say it, not sure if he can articulate it just right because there are so  _ many _ different forms of  _ I love you _ that he wants to convey, and he is not sure his vocabulary could suffice to express each of them.

They cram at the base of his larynx, strangling him, he cannot breath so he presses open mouthed kiss to Jaehyun’s swollen lips, gasping as the blond reacts to his touch immediately; brushing his sweaty hair back with one hand before clutching them in maddeningly gentle grip, and another one looping around his waist.

Taeyong kisses him hard as if he’s pouring his abundant emotions for Jaehyun to drink, and prays that every rolls of their tongues and frictions of their lips can speak of what his mouth fails to utter. In contrast, Jaehyun kisses him slow, unhurried, gentle like the way flower bud blooms open, keeping his hold steady to ease Taeyong down and rolls the control back to his palm. He melts eventually, letting Jaehyun take the charge and leads this intimate dance of theirs lips.

“Put in on me, Hyung. Right now.”

Taeyong gives him one more kiss, eliciting Jaehyun’s laughter to bubble up, merry symphony of loving jubilation. With careful hands, with teary smile on his face, Taeyong puts the collar around Jaehyun’s neck. Slip the cloth under the buckle, inserts this piece metal inside black-ringed hoop, another slide of cloth, and Taeyong looks up to find Jaehyun watching him, smile as serene as glowing moon on his handsome face.

“I love you,” Jaehyun says, thumb lovingly stroking the skin on Taeyong’s hips where the flares of their previous lovemaking has simmered down into pleasant tingle. “I love you so much, Lee Taeyong, you have no idea…”

Taeyong chokes back a sob. One swift pull; and Jaehyun gasps out a strangled moan, eyelids dropping from the sudden pressure around his neck. Taeyong pulls again, tighter, faster, securing the strip of cloth around Jaehyun’s neck in the same way Jaehyun had done to him. Branding him. Marking him. Owning him.

Tears blur his vision away before they fall from his eyes, free-falling down the plane of his cheeks. He can’t believe this is happening; his Dominant is letting him to collar him, to elevate Taeyong above him when it’s supposed to be the other way around. Jaehyun is supposed to subjugate him, to make Taeyong prostrate before him, and kiss his feet in blind worship. Yet he makes Taeyong put a collar around his neck, makes Taeyong hold the control on his palm, make Taeyong  _ own _ him in a way that should be exclusive only to a Dominant.

Jaehyun tries to wipe his tears, skin barely touching with how gentle he’s being, tracing the silvery trails that the tears has tracked down Taeyong’s cheeks. His smile is just as wet as Taeyong’s, eyes narrowing into crescent moon, teeth peeking from between his red, luscious lips, stretching back to reveal his set of sweet dimples.

“Don’t cry, Hyung,” Jaehyun speaks, soft, tender, like the love that envelops them with infinite vivacity of spring’s arrival after long, bleak winter.

Taeyong sniffs, “I’m sorry,” he croaks out, apologizing for he knows he is unable to fulfill his order this time. “I’m sorry, Sir- Jae- I-“

Jaehyun angles his face so their lips are meeting once again in slow dance of caresses, sending liquefied gold of affection down Taeyong’s spine. He sighs into the kiss, holding on the leash tight with one hand and another on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Don’t apologize either,” he says in between, “say it, Hyung. I want to hear it; say _ it _ .”

Say  _ it _ ; those three words. Those words of pledge that do not quiet carry meaning of ‘forever’ yet they fervently wish those words would. Those three words that have been spoken out too many times they’re sometimes losing their actual value. Three words that bind, three words that stitch two people together with red string of fate despite their differences. Three words so magical it could start and end a war.

Three words that Taeyong wishes he could brand to Jaehyun’s skin forever, carrying the rasp and pitch of his voice in their curves.

Three words that Taeyong wishes he and Jaehyun could exchange under the everlasting shower of iridescent sunrays.

Three words that Taeyong wishes he could tell Jaehyun freely like doves flying across the wide canvas of bright, eternal blue.

“I love you,” Taeyong says. Jaehyun smiles, and he is so  _ fucking _ beautiful that Taeyong wants to say it, again and again, like they’re the only words he knows, like he exists only to tell these three enchanting words to Jaehyun. “I love you, Jaehyun. Jeong Jaehyun, I love you. So much. Too much. I love you, I love you, Jaehyunnie, I-“

Jaehyun answers his feelings with a kiss, bruising tender; like love incalescent that joins them together. Heartfelt; like the confessions that have left their lips in Concordia of amorous melody. Taeyong laughs into the kiss, leaning further into Jaehyun’s embrace, winding his arms around Jaehyun’s neck, still holding onto the silky cloth tight.

The bathroom is silent witness to their union, watching with maudlin gaze as their souls meet in slow cadence of beatific waltz, hymn of brilliant affection and luminous devotion playing in celebration. Outside, snow is falling all over the country, and tomorrow, they will wake up to a land of frosty white and biting cold. But here in their stage, their makeshift sanctuary, here in each other’s arms, all they can feel is warmth lasting immortal, burning them into shimmering relics of dying star before they’re lit ablaze once again by the heat of their love.

The sweet kiss eventually simmers to a boil when Jaehyun slips his tongue inside Taeyong’s mouth, hands roaming down back Taeyong’s hips. Taeyong knows what is coming, has expected it even though the idea has been briefly shoved back to the corner of his head. His body is soft and pliant, easily malleable by Jaehyun’s governing hands.

“Jaehyunnie?” Taeyong calls, pulling away just slightly.

“Mmhm? What is it, Hyung?”

Taeyong can feel the hardness of Jaehyun’s cock near his entrance, seeping warmth into his still tender, abused skin. He smiles shyly, kissing the tip of Jaehyun’s nose before pressing their sweaty foreheads together. He sighs in bliss, rolling his hips teasingly to earn a chuckle from his lover. “I will try to walk tomorrow, I promise.”

Jaehyun laughs, loud, vibrant; splashes of orange and red over already cheerful pink and soft fuchsias. “Remember we have Music Bank rehearsals in the morning,” Jaehyun grins cheekily, and at the reminder, Taeyong’s eyes widen in surprise, totally forgetting that one schedule at  _ fucking 5 am in the morning- _

_ “ _ Fuck! What time is-  _ EUNG!?! _ ” He whines out, completely taken aback and unprepared when Jaehyun drives back into him, holding him down so he can get even deeper. Taeyong moans, tossing his head back with eyes tightly shut and teeth biting his bottom lips, hissing in pain.

Jaehyun rocks up to him in slow pace, looking at his Sub with wet, adoring eyes. He guides Taeyong so the raven can meet his thrust, murmuring, “ _ hyung _ ” and  _ “you feel so good”  _ every now and then. Taeyong is writhing in his hold, mind-numbing pleasure bolting down his spine.

“Jaehyunie,” he cries when Jaehyun finally hits that bundle of nerves inside of him, playing film of bright fireworks on summer sky behind his lids. “There, right there,  _ yes _ , nnn,” he smothers his moans in the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, mouthing down to his shoulder in desperate attempt to keep his tone down.

“Here?” Jaehyun asks, thrusting back the same spot. Taeyong swallows back what could have been a yell loud enough to wake up the whole dorm.  _ Fuck _ ,  _ it feels so good _ . Noticing his Sub’s struggle, Jaehyun detaches Taeyon’s head from his shoulder, trying to shush him with kisses. “Ssh, you’re doing good, Hyung. You’re amazing, you can keep your voice down, can you?”

Not capable of forming proper word nor sentence, Taeyong answers him with a whine, kissing Jaehyun back with languid fervor, clinging into him with dear life, his Dominant continued sliding in and out of him with maddeningly slow tempo.

This time, it’s not just a mere  _ fuck _ . This time, they are making love, sweet and languorous. Docile and wholehearted in their unison. Taeyong cries softly whenever Jaehyun hits his prostate, the younger sings his praises on Taeyong’s sweltering skin whenever Taeyong manages to keep his moans down.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach their own climaxes. Taeyong comes first with the constant abuse of his sweet spot, holding on the leash tightly that he jerks Jaehyun’s head downward until it’s nestled perfectly on the crook of his neck, hot lips murmuring words of appraisal to his pulse point with strangled breath.

Jaehyun comes soon after when Taeyong is still not coming back from the high of his orgasm, lying limply in his Dominant’s embrace as the blond once again spills his seeds deep inside of him. Taeyong’s name scattering from his lips in broken whimpers of  _ I love you’ _ s.

“Me too,” Taeyong croaks out weakly, nuzzling their cheeks together despite the weariness that claims him as dismantling euphoria. “I love you, Jaehyunnie, I love you so much.”

Gently, like tending a fresh, open wound, Jaehyun slides his cock out from Taeyong. The elder secretly laments the loss of fullness inside of him. His whole body is throbbing, burning with rapturous pain, yet he has become so familiar, accustomed with the frantic aches to miss it. He bids them temporary goodbye with the close of his eyes, he imagines them waving back to him, ruby-colored stroke of paint on flesh-colored canvas.

Jaehyun fixes their bodies so Taeyong is leaning on his sides on Jaehyun’s chest, careful as to not put any more pressure on the smaller man’s hips. Wrapping one arm around his torso, Jaehyun reaches forward, stretching his hand long until he can twist the knob, lukewarm water flowing from the opened tap. He leans back quickly, propping Taeyong to lean comfortably on his warm chest, tucking his head under his skin, one hand gently caressing his sweat and tears dampened cheeks.

“So,” Jaehyun starts after a long silence that’s only disturbed by the twinkling noise of stream. The water ebb and flow around them, enveloping their spent and satiated bodies with dewy blanket of warmth without leaving any gap. His breath tickles Taeyong’s ears, earning the blond a contented giggle from his exhausted Sub. “You think you can walk tomorrow?”

“And dance,” Taeyong yawns, feeling sleepiness finally catching up to him. He sneaks one hand around Jaehyun’s chest, hugging him like pillow. “I don’t know. I can. I  _ have  _ to. I will manage.”

“You sure?” when Jaehyun asks, there’s blue tinge of guilt in his voice. Taeyong frowns. “I shouldn’t, I should not have-“

The elder slaps uncoordinated fingers over what he assumes to be his lover’s mouth, cringing when Jaehyun winces in pain. “Fuck, sorry,” he sputters, then quickly says, “it’s not your fault. It’s okay. I am okay,  _ we are _ okay. I can take this, it’s fine. It’s not like this is the first time you fucked me like  _ that _ .”

Taeyong feels rather than see Jaehyun’s mouth falling open. He pictures his handsome lover –  _ Jaehyun _ – with cheeks brightening peach, turning bashful once the mantle of Dominant has been clasped off and folded neatly to shelf inside the drawer until the next time they’re needed. It’s cute, how starkly different Jaehyun can be with and without it. It’s endearing, that Taeyong wants to kiss him playfully until he can coax giggles out from Jaehyun’s lips.

But he is too tired, his body too sore, and he needs to conserve his energy so he can not only perform but attend the fansign event tomorrow.  _ Fuck _ , it will be so  _ fucking difficult _ , but he will do it; he  _ has _ to, Jaehyun has ordered him, and Taeyong is a good, obedient Sub. “I promise, Jaehyunnie, I will be fine, okay?”

Jaehyun presses a kiss to the side of his temple, drawing Taeyong’s scent in. “I love you, I love you, I love you. You’re so good for me, you know that, Hyung?”

“Me, too, Jeong Jaehyun; I love you, too.” Taeyong smiles, heart fluttering like cherry blossom petals in the wind. Soft. Beautiful. Fulfilled. Their life might be transient but they served a purpose. Taeyong has his purposes, too, has served them; making Jaehyun happy by being good to him.

When Jaehyun holds him with both arms; once again declaring his affection and craving his devotion to Taeyong’s skin with his lips, Taeyong answers him with a laugh, tightening his flimsy grasp on the small of Jaehyun’s toned back. “I will take care of you, I swear. I will buy your favorite cookies after rehearsal, I will even hand-feed you if you want.”

“Don’t, Mark will be scandalized,” Taeyong snorts, remembering how they had unintentionally traumatized their young member in one lazy, winter afternoon.

They had no schedule that day and the other members had decided to do their own business outside, with exception of Taeyong and Jaehyun. After a steamy session of love-making, Jaehyun had bathed Taeyong, clothed him with silkiest pajamas they own, and carried him bridal style to the living room, clad in pajama bottom and hoodie that he decided to leave unzipped, revealing his smooth, toned chest peppered with kisses on the bottom corner from their session.

Jaehyun had promised to feed him, but the kneeling down beside Jaehyun’s legs on the floor was totally Taeyong’s idea. So that was how Mark found them; Taeyong with his head on Jaehyun’s thigh with the younger’s hand absently petting his damp, dark hair, and another one feeding cookies after cookies to his willing, opened mouth.

They don’t exactly remember how they managed to weasel their way out from that awkward situation, but knew large part of it came from Mark voluntarily deciding to pretend like the exchange didn’t happen at all right in front of his eyes.

It didn’t stop Mark from stealing curious glances at them every now and then, though, and it only grows in frequency after the short fuss they made today in the dressing room.

“We can do it in the van, or you can just say you’re feeling under the weather. They will understand,” Jaehyun prompts. The water has reached a level above his elbow. He is about to lunge forward again but Taeyong wiggles out from his hold to close the tap himself before leaning back to his chest, snuggling to that comfortable position he has found. “Good boy,” Jaehyun coos sweetly to the tip of his nose.

“ _ Yours. _ Your good boy,” Taeyong murmurs lazily.

They lapse back into relaxing silence, like the water that laps in quiet ripple around them. The rising and falling of Jaehyun’s chest is sweet lullaby on Taeyong’s skin, lulling him, guiding him to the land of sleep where God of Dream, Morpheus, is ready to welcome him to his gentle abode with open arms.

He is there, so close, extending his hand to reach that upturned palm that will escort him to blissful castle in the air where nothing but joy and delight exist, when Jaehyun speaks, low and awakening like sudden charge of static electricity.

“Hyung, about that  _ picture with Johnny _ -“

If you ask him whether he did it on purpose or not, Taeyong would answer;  _ I did _ .

But if it was Jaehyun – if  _ you _ were Jaehyun, and you asked Taeyong the same thing, his answer would be;  _ I didn’t _ .

And this is Jaehyun, asking him, demanding the answer straight from his lips. It didn’t matter to Taeyong back then, and it shouldn’t matter to him now.

Because he already got what he wanted; Jaehyun’s rough and thorough loving. His collar -  _ their _ \- collar wrapped snugly around Jaehyun’s neck.

So he smiles, contented, satisfied. And sweetly, with his big, obsidian eyes curtained by his lashes, he peers up at his lover, “yes, Jaehyunnie?”

If Jaehyun sees through his lies, then so be it. After all, Taeyong is ready for his next  _ punishment. _

**Author's Note:**

> What I intended to be around 5k words of smut and jaeyong playing with collars turned into this monster of 14k word vomits. Oh boy, what did I do??? How do you write smut again @ favorite writers ????
> 
> Anyways, I wrote this before 02/23 GAON AWARD when Jaehyun magically appeared with that friggin Raf Simons poplin collar?? (Which apparently is a set with the oversized shirt Taeyong wore at SMA and costs $864?? Wow, they pitched good clothing sponsor deals. Different era and jaeyong still share their choker, I thought it’s firetruck thing, not jaeyong thing???)
> 
> So when he came out, all gruff and without smile on his face with that choker on, I legit had a mental breakdown. Didn’t intend to make him wear the collar but I had to, I mean; he did wear them in canon, ha! But that one technically happened after this story, so, it’s okay, lovely Sub TY is still the first one who put collar on Jaehyun’s neck ;)
> 
> Apologize for any mistakes, timeline or place inaccuracy. Events mentioned; Seoul Music Awards 20170119. Thanks to lovely beta @ sophia


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